


One-Man Neighborhood Watch

by nonnymouse



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cursed to be raped by everyone they meet, Deepthroating, F/M, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27825370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonnymouse/pseuds/nonnymouse
Summary: Old Man Thompson spies a young woman who is clearly up to no good and takes matters into his own hands.
Relationships: Cranky Old Man/Pretty Girl
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50
Collections: Naughty List 2020





	One-Man Neighborhood Watch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ancslove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancslove/gifts).



The evening air was chilly, but Thompson had a flask of hot tea and a blanket to keep himself warm while he waited, his rifle sitting beside him on his porch steps. He was going to catch that raccoon that kept knocking over his garbage if it took all week. He'd called the city animal control, but apparently they didn't care about raccoons knocking over trash cans.

Hearing a small, repetitive noise, he turned his head.

The figure drawing closer was much larger than a raccoon. Eventually, a street light illuminated the figure, revealing a young woman dressed in dark clothing and carrying a small sack, looking furtively around as she crept stealthily forward through the night. Thompson didn't recognize her, and he knew everyone who lived nearby. A thief. She had to be.

An extremely beautiful thief. She had thick, glossy blonde hair and a figure that not even her dark, shapeless clothing could conceal. Thompson's cock was thickening in his pants, even without the help of one of the little blue pills in his medicine cabinet. He scowled. He had things to do and she was interrupting them. Did she think she could get away with it because she was pretty?

Pulling out his phone, he dialed 9-1-1. Speaking quietly, he said, "This is Alvin Thompson. I live at 1156—"

The operator rudely interrupted him with a sigh. "We know where you live, Mr. Thompson."

"There's a thief prowling my neighborhood. She's already hit somewhere; she's got a sack full of goods."

"Why do you think she's a thief, Mr. Thompson?"

"No reason for her to be out this late, is there?" he asked smugly. There was nothing for them to say to that. No one up to any good would be out this late.

"We'll send a car out."

Mr. Thompson had heard that before. It would be hours before a cop drove by, and the thief would be long gone by then. He had to detain her himself. He grabbed the rifle. "Hands up, girlie," he called out. She was only a few houses a way, and her head went up, looking his directions. Her eyes were wide with surprise and fear. They were also the stormy blue of a winter sea. "Get over here. Come along now."

His scowl deepened as she jogged closer, her breasts bobbing beneath her sweatshirt as if she might not be wearing a bra. The only good things were that she kept her hands up and seemed properly afraid.

The little termagant was as ill-bred as he'd expected. She swore when she got close enough to see him. "Fuck, no, you're old enough to be my grandfather. My great-grandfather! Look, you don't want to do this. I'm under a curse. I was cursed for my vanity, that everyone who meets me sees me as irresistibly beautiful and rapes me. You have to see me for who I really am!"

He ignored her pleading. He had things to do. That raccoon might show while he was busy dealing with her.

"Shut it," he growled. "Clothes off."

She hurried to obey, though she got tangled up a few times because she couldn't take her eyes off his gun. Every revealed inch of her was as infuriatingly perfect as the last, her smooth young skin glowing in the moonlight. When she finally stood before him naked as a jaybird, he shoved his fingers in her twat. Dry as the desert, and she had the temerity to scream.

He swung the rifle, knocking her across the face. How dare she be dry when she made men desperate just by looking at her. She fell to her knees, blood splattering across the grass. He felt a brief second of remorse that he might have ruined the perfection of her face, but she looked even more beautiful cowed, with an artistic streak of blood smearing her lips like lipstick.

Undoing his pants, he grabbed great handfuls of that silky hair and shoved her face into his crotch. "Get it wet, girlie."

The thief's mouth was as wonderful as the rest of her, as warm and wet as he'd hoped her twat would be. Those red lips were utterly exquisite wrapped around his thick cock and he grunted with an animal satisfaction as he shoved himself deep into her throat, making her choke and gag around him. Her throat felt good around him as it spasmed for breath. Best she learn what sort of treatment bad girls like her deserved. A hardened criminal before she was even old enough to drink. He was being compassionate, getting his cock wet before he took her.

With his hands yanking her hair close to the scalp, he could direct her head any way he wanted. He held it still as he fucked into her throat as fast as he could, holding her nose to his pubes as she choked and gasped for air. If she passed out, it would make the rest of it easier, but she was too close to making him come. That was her plan, he was sure, make him come from using her mouth so that he couldn't sample her twat before the cops arrived.

He shoved her off his cock and slapped her face twice. He enjoyed how quickly the red print of his hand spread across her skin, but she seemed too dazed to act properly chastised. No bother. He turned her around, tossing her facedown on the steps so that her tempting rear was arched to meet him. Her twat was still stubbornly dry, but his cock was dripping with her spit and his own eagerness.

Grabbing her by those shapely hips, he shoved his cock where it belonged. Despite the violence of his intrusion, her twat took him in greedily, her body clearly more willing than it pretended. The girl took a cock well, as she should.

She laid there limply as he fucked her, her head sometimes thumping against the stair. There was something infuriating about it, how she tempted him and then forced him to do all the work. She just had to lie there and take it. She drove him wild and acted as if she were totally separate from his passion. He growled as he thrust into her, feeling as if he were decades younger, finding an energy in his hips he hadn't had in years. He'd only ever gone parking with nice girls, who might delicately use their mouths on him before they parted for the night. He'd never given into the wiles of a temptress before, not even on the nights he most longed for a wife beside him.

Perhaps he'd kept himself for her. His purpose was to redeem this lost soul, save her from a life of crime that she might live as purely as her beauty.

He thrust deep into her core, her knees dragging along the concrete steps, and came inside her. It did feel like a cleansing. A sign.

He did up his pants and retrieved his rifle. No sign of the raccoon or the police. Can't trust the cops to do anything right. It was up to him, as it always was.

He dragged her up the steps into the house. "Don't worry, girlie," he told her, "I'm gonna fix you."


End file.
